Technicality
by planet p
Summary: AU; a conversation between Lyle and Nicholas.


It'd been quite a while since Nicholas had been in a technical bookstore last, but, even so, it hadn't been for wanting alone that he'd made the trip, it had been a change in curricular at the school where he worked that had prompted him to go looking for further information on a particular topic.

He needed to be certain, for his own piece of mind, that he knew the topic thoroughly enough to be able to relay it back to a classroom full of unsuspecting students in a satisfactory manner. Not to mention, that it was his job.

Minutes ticked away inside that bookstore, and he found himself somewhere else to where he'd been the last time he'd checked, the last time he'd thought to pay attention. _Dear, now._

The sound of humming startled him into the realisation that, as quiet as it was, he was not alone. And, of course, he had never been from the start. The cashier would be somewhere, he was sure. And, probably, customers aside from himself.

He didn't recognise the jazz/blues and a hint of cabaret-esque flamboyance that was the song in question, but, as he rounded a row of shelves, he wondered if he should expect to.

He straightened, unconsciously drawing courage to himself, and forwent the often thought polite introductory clearing of the throat. He walked toward the other man, and, as he began to notice the titles of the books, language texts, a frown settled upon his face.

"What are you after?" Lyle asked, without turning or glancing round.

"Biology," Nicholas supplied, not bothering to raise his voice. His frown faltered, and then changed. His eyes darkened. "She doesn't know, does she?"

"No," came Lyle's reply.

Nicholas pondered whether they were on the same page; if Lyle knew who the 'she' he'd referred after was.

"Miss Parker," Lyle said, turning now to face him.

Nicholas merely nodded in affirmation; that was to whom he'd been referring.

"There has been no cause for her to, as suspiciously minded as circumstance has inflicted upon her demeanour of recent years."

"Yet you do," Nicholas commented dryly.

Lyle smiled, as though lost in thought, for a moment. "We are one part of a larger whole. She is my other half."

"And you're hers," Nicholas finished. He folded his arms. Somehow, though the situation shouldn't constitute it, he felt uncomfortable to be alone with Lyle in a confined space, as much as the bookstore, in its entirety, could hardly be labelled 'confined,' or cramped. Considering, in addition, his abilities, the prospect seemed doubly as unlikely. Yet, he could no more deny what he felt, than he could will it away. "What could she bring to 'the whole' that you don't already have?" he posed, fairly, his tone as starchily unimaginative as possible.

"Everything," Lyle answered softly, smiling, still, as he had been before.

Nicholas felt a rash of irritation pass over him, through him. Others may have taken Lyle's flippant responses, but they irked him. He re-adjusted his arms, keeping them folded. "And that means _what_, exactly?" he bristled.

"Whatever it means," Lyle replied, shaking his head. It was no big concern, for certain.

Nicholas's irritation rose. Lyle obviously wasn't used to people pressing the questions, or maybe he was, maybe that was what he wanted. Could this just have been a diversion as part of a larger plan?

"Biology? That should be…" Lyle turned about, then started off in the direction he'd figured the biology texts would be.

"Because you're an unfeeling jerk," Nicholas prodded, starting after him.

Lyle laughed. "That, and more. Where to begin?"

_This is too easy_, a part of Nicholas rebelled; the other part smiled in satisfaction: _Yes, where would you begin?_

"I'd say, for a start, that her body count is considerably less a sum than that of my own," Lyle compiled.

Nicholas fought back a choke. Yes, that _would_ have to call for the title of first mention on his 'list,' wouldn't it!

"She's always so controlled in her relationships," Lyle continued, without pause for contemplation. He knew all there was to know about Miss Parker, he'd assured himself of that fact; it could only be truth.

They came to a set of carpeted steps inclining the browser and foot traffic upward, toward a higher level. Nicholas took his time on the steps, hoping to prolong Lyle's next item of mention on his list of his numerable deficiencies, which his sister, presumedly, made up for.

As he, seemingly, did a visual sort of his surroundings, Lyle hummed Lady Gaga's _I Like It Rough_.

Nicholas suppressed the ill feeling which had just popped into his gut, and reached the top step; the landing. More carpet there, too; of the same colour and pattern as adorned the steps.

"Here!" Lyle clicked his fingers and turned about swiftly. "Biology!" he declared, of the shelf behind him.

Nicholas very nearly rolled his eyes, but caught the urge just in time in snap down on it. "So it appears," he replied, monotone flat. He started to wander in Lyle's general direction, managing, with a massive effort, not to visibly drag his feet.

Lyle grinned. "Must be off," he announced excitedly.

Nicholas couldn't help the tug of a displeased frown that threatened to morph into disgust.

"Good day to you," Lyle told him, with a nod, on his way past, back toward the carpeted steps and the lower level.

Nicholas allowed his departure without any answering remark, waiting it out.

He felt with an unpleasant clarity the weight, and wavering feeling, lift from his person with every step that was put between himself and Lyle. As his eyes took in the titles before him, and he shuffled forward to afford a closer look, he felt a stab of guilt.

He sincerely hoped that for whatever reason Lyle had been so enthusiastic, it didn't involve murder.

* * *

**Technicality** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.


End file.
